Albus Potter and the Spinner's End Prophecy
by LittleTee
Summary: When an old, unknown, hidden prophecy is discovered that indicates the means to stop a deranged psychopath sorceress from seizing the Wizarding World; Albus Potter and the reborn Order of the Phoenix are willing to do whatever it takes to see it fulfilled. Even if it means rewriting the past. Two-shot. Slight hint of Rose/Scorpius.


**Albus Potter and the Spinner's End Prophecy**

**by LittleTee**

**ooooOOOoooo**

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**Acknowledgements: **I would like to thank _Fenton Hardy Fan_ and _Dare2Dream13_ for agreeing to beta this runaway prologue. Thank you both for pointing out both the small and the huge, monstrous errors that littered this story. I would also like to thank my best friend Tammy who introduced me to the awesome world of Harry Potter. If you hadn't bugged me endlessly to agree to write you a Harry Potter fanfiction, I would never have found this wonderful and magical fandom. Thank you and I pray that you will feel better soon.

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**ooooOOOoooo**

**– Part One –**

"Hey, Al! Come look at what I found!" Cried Andrew Longstreet to his partner, who was currently searching in another room of the old abandoned house.

"What did you find Andrew?" asked Albus "Al" Severus Potter.

"This!" Andrew exclaimed grinning like a Cheshire cat when Al entered the dingy sitting room. The object that Andrew was holding was a small spherical orb, made from a blue glass, which had wisps of vapor dancing inside it. The stand was made from a dark wood and had four miniature figurines standing at each of the cardinal points holding up the sphere with their hands.

Al crossed the old, abandoned room in two powerful strides to collect the crystal orb from his accident-prone partner. However, in Al's dash to retrieve the prophecy record from Andrew, he didn't see the hole in the rotten, old wood floor and tripped crashing into Andrew. Andrew let out a yelp of surprise as he threw the record orb high up into the air before landing harshly on the old wooden floor with Al on top of him.

Al pushed himself up and away from Andrew, and turned just in time to see the record collide with the unforgiving floor. Both men winced simultaneously as they heard the orb break into a multitude of glass shards.

"Was that what I think it was?"

"Yes! The prophecy record is now broken."

"Sor-"

"Hush!" Al snapped, silencing his friend as the freed vapors began to twirl into a figure of a woman. She stood tall and proud before them, staring into his eyes before her own darkened and she began to talk. At least, that was what he assumed the vision of the prophetess was doing. For when a prophecy record is broken the prophecy it held is repeated one last time, but only the person or persons who the prophecy directly influences or concerns can hear its message. He had always thought this to be a good fail-safe, but now…

"Blimey, Aunt Hermione was right after all," thought Al for the first time in his twenty-two years he silently thanked his Aunt for demanding that he and his siblings learn Sign Language and the art of lip reading. Stating that if ever the need arose it would be best to be prepared, she had equipped them perfectly for this moment.

Andrew pushed himself off the floor, dusting off his trousers and preparing to make an off-hand remark back to Al when he noticed the specter before them. "Great Godric's ghost," Andrew thought as he felt himself pale, "this can't be good."

Neither Andrew or Al could say later how long they stood watching the apparition of a twenty-something woman proclaiming a prophecy that neither of them could hear. Without warning, the apparition stopped talking and her eyes grew lighter while a small smile tugged at her lips. As she slowly dissipated, she moved her lips again in a silent farewell before bowing her head towards Al and vanishing into thin air.

Al was the first of the pair to move, bringing out a small scroll of parchment and his trusty crystal tipped quill pen from his inner coat pocket. Andrew silently tried to steady his nerves as he watched Al write.

"Hey, I just handled a prophecy record," Andrew commented as the ramifications hit him.

"Yes, you did," Al agreed, finishing his writing and rolling up the parchment before placing it back into his pocket. After tucking his quill safely away in his coat he advanced to the fallen record.

"Aren't I supposed to go crazy, or something?"

"Yes and no."

Andrew waited a beat before lamely repeating what Al had said and commenting, "Well that was as clear as mud."

Al sighed as he collected the four figurines that once supported the orb. "Yes, in that all Hall of Prophecy records are protected; if you had as carelessly and mindlessly picked up the record there as you did here you would have inevitably become barmy." Al paused knowing that this was not doing anything to help Andrew's nerves or blood pressure, but Andrew could be completely gormless at times. If his partner could gain an ounce of mindfulness and conscientiousness toward object retrieval than the waste of a record would not be in vain.

"No," Al continued, examining the figures he now held, "because this record has never been in the Ministry let alone the Hall of Prophecy. Thus it has not been 'protected against theft'." Al paused turning his attention to his colleague after pocketing the figurines. "You will not go mad today, my friend."

"Thank Heavens," Andrew breathed visibly relaxing. "I really didn't want to go as crazy as a loon."

Andrew walked over to the broken record and bent down looking at what remained of the base. Something caught his eye as light reflected off it. Without hesitating – after all, since the danger of going nutty was nil what was there to be afraid of? – he reached down and picked up a small metal plaque. He brushed off the glass and dust from its surface and silently read what was engraved:

_C.L.T to G.T.L_

_(?)Muggle-blood Lioness-Princess &amp; (?)Half-blood Serpent-Prince_

_and_

_(?)Swift Gentle Wayward-Wolf &amp; (?)Metamorphic Nymph Warrior-Maiden_

"No clue about who it was about then."

"Guess not."

"Why the titles though?" Andrew asked handing over the plaque to his partner, who in turned pocketed it. "I mean why can't prophecies be forthright and tell you clearly what's going to happen, instead of all the rhymes, riddles, and titles?"

Al looked thoughtful before replying. "I have been told that seeing what could be the future is hard and the visions usually are not in chronological or spatial order, but in randomized tidbits of events and scenes." He paused taking out his pocket-watch, flipping it open, and frowning, before continuing. "The titles are a clue. Granted that most times than naught they are worthless, and usually, a label doesn't bear the title. This was definitely not a Hall of Prophecy record."

"Then who made it?"

"Good question."

With that, both Auror agents fell silent. Both deep in their own thoughts, they stood there thinking for several minutes till Al broke the silence.

"The hour is growing late. We better get back to our work."

"But –"

"Our mission was to find a dark curio with ties to the One-Who-Is-Upcoming," Al spoke the title that had been penned by the infamous Quibbler, with unmistakable disdain. He – just like his parents – felt that using a made-up title instead of the person's given name added fuel to the propaganda and fear. However, no one currently knew what the upcoming maniac's name was. He hadn't officially appeared yet. Only the prophecy that had been uttered recently by a young seer that had yet to have a false vision had made the Ministry of Magic go on Magenta Alert. Shacklebolt was not going to sit around with his head buried in the sand like the former Minister's for Magic had done with Voldemort.

This time, the Ministry was researching and preparing for the upcoming war. Al had even heard whispers of the resurgence of the Order of the Phoenix from his fellow Aurors. As much as Al had wished for adventure and excitement when he was studying at Hogwarts, he had never wanted to see a Wizarding War. He had grown up hearing the tales of all the innocent individuals and Order members that the last two wars had claimed. Some had been family members whom he would never meet, like Uncle Fred, his paternal grandparents, and Teddy's parents.

He had visited the memorial that had been erected in honor of all who had fallen against Voldemort and his minions, the Death Eaters, in both wars when it was opened on the twentieth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Al had read each name aloud and touched the engraved names, silently thanking them for their ultimate sacrifice. Especially when he reached the names of the two brave and wise wizards that he was named after, both former Headmasters of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape.

Al stopped his impromptu reverie and snapped his pocket watch closed, returning it to its pocket. "The record was accidental and now just as lost as it once was. We have a mission to complete."

With that, the two split up again and continued their search in the old house that stood in Spinner's End.

**\- ooo000ooo -**

Al swirled the amber colored liquor around his glass lazily as he thought over all the events and tragedies that had brought him to this moment in his life. It had been five years since the events of the prophecy record being discovered at Spinner's End.

"Miss you mate," Al thought, silently toasting to the memory of his partner and friend Andrew Longstreet before bringing the glass to his lips and emptying its contents in one gulp. Andrew had died shortly after Spinner's End when he had fallen curse to the virga loki. Andrew did not have a nice death.

After Andrew passed Al didn't allow himself to get too friendly with any of his new partners, and Al even grew distant from his family and friends. But it wasn't solely on the fear of watching others die without helping or providing comfort. Al had seen death before Andrew. No, it was mainly due to what he had gathered from the prophecy record that had been broken.

He had discovered the secret of who the seer was when he had visited his old Divination Professor, Sybil Trelawney, six months after Spinner's End and eighteen months before Andrew's death. Professor Trelawney had been doing some in-between terms house cleaning and both Andrew and Al had offered to help out. Al had always felt empathy towards the seer slash Hogwarts professor. Being that her inherited gift had caused her to be isolated from society at large, plus her rather absent minded and accident prone nature hadn't helped her to become Miss Popularity either.

Al smiled as he remembered that day. Andrew, Al and Professor Trelawney were enjoying some tea and biscuits after their long morning of rearranging furniture and various other spring cleaning activities.

Andrew had asked the Divination instructor, "Why she hadn't settled down."

Professor Trelawney missed the antics of the Aurors – Al's swift kick to Andrew and Andrew's mouthed "What?" – due to her concentration on refilling her tea cup. She answered Andrew's question as she picked up the creamer with a far-away look in her eyes:

"Apparently, boyfriends do not appreciate girls gifted with inner sight." She paused, frowning as she noticed that the cream had completely missed her tea cup and soiled her skirt instead. "Men are not keen on hearing how they might die or who they might sire when one is in the throes of passion. It appears to dampen the mood greatly."

Al had almost missed that last part when he had spewed his tea out and coughed hard. Desperately trying to clear his conjured mental image of Professor Trelawney in the throes of passion that was one image he had never wanted to see. Especially when his mind, a beat later, replaced professor Trelawney with his mental image of the aspiration of the Spinners End seer, a nickname Andrew had coined, and the now flashed-out aspiration was staring into his eyes, going into her trance. However, it was then that Al recognized the uncanny resemblance between the two seers.

"You okay, man?" Andrew had asked after slapping Al's back to try to help his friend, who apparently had a naughty mental image of the lady sitting in front of them. That would throw anyone into a coughing fit, Andrew mused, thankful he had been spared the mental anguish.

Al quickly nodded and paled even more, which Andrew had thought was impossible.

"Professor, was anyone else in your family gifted with inner sight?"

Professor Trelawney looked surprised and quirked her right eyebrow before answering that only her great-great-grandmother Cassandra Trelawney had the gift, or at least to her knowledge was the only other seer in her family. Al was able to reaffirm his suspicion when in answer to his question if there were a portrait of her ancestor she showed him an old Muggle painting of Cassandra Trelawney.

Andrew froze mouth agape at the motionless painting before them of the Spinner's End seer. "Al, isn't that-?"

"Yes, it is."

After Al explained to Professor Trelawney that a prophecy record had been broken and that the record had been missing a tag – which was, in essence, the truth (it had had a plaque, not a tag) – and that Al and Andrew had seen the memory of Cassandra Trelawney telling her prophecy, albeit mutely.

The professor blinked a few times before asking her former pupil, Al, if there were any parchment records of that prophecy, to which Al replied with a simple no. Both he and Andrew thought she would let the matter drop, but they were mistaken.

"This is not good. No not good at all." Sybil sighed at seeing the Auror agents frown and decided to explain. "Cassandra was a special seer. She was a Muggle-born, and when she wed her powers did not falter like most but grew stronger. My great aunt said that this was due to the fact that Cassandra found her true love and soul mate, Jeremiah Trelawney, who was a powerful wizard in his own right."

Andrew let out a low whistle. "Not an easy feat."

"No, it's not, especially for a seer. To date, all of her prophecies have come to pass with a hundred percent accuracy. That is why many call her the Legendary Cassandra Trelawney." She paused, looking at the painted image of her great-great-grandmother before turning her gaze back to her guests. "If a prophecy record from her has been broken without a written summary record or tag then we may not be prepared for any future trouble looming on our horizon."

"What if the events of the prophecy have already come to pass?" Andrew asked, still not taking his eyes off the portrait before him. "No problem then, right?"

"Once a prophecy has come to pass or failed then its record is moved to another location out of the Hall of Prophecy. Since the record was broken in the Hall of Prophecy then the prophecy has yet to come to pass." With that she had turned and walked back to her kitchen, leaving Andrew and Al by the painting.

After that meeting, Al and Andrew had both agreed that they should look into the prophecy and why the record had never been processed by the Ministry, secretly. Al had frowned at the idea of secrecy, especially when it involved matters of prophecy. He had grown up hearing how his two namesakes had manipulated events that had sparked the deaths of hundreds of innocents and marred the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. They both had been the central catalysts, with Voldemort being his own in his ultimate demise at the Battle of Hogwarts. Al wanted to do the right thing, but what was the right thing to do in a situation like this?

"How can one cause a prophecy if they did not hear it in the first place?" Andrew had argued.

Al had not yet told Andrew about how he understood the seer – well, mostly – through reading her lips. He still carried the fragment of parchment containing his translation of Cassandra Trelawney's prophecy in his vest pocket.

"I mean if you don't know the events you can't cause them, right?" Andrew continued, "But if Professor Trelawney was correct in her comments concerning Cassandra's prophecies then we owe it to ourselves and the world to ferret out any information we can. To make sure we are ready to fight if the need requires it."

Al frowned, not because he didn't agree with Andrew, but because he already had a strange feeling of who the prophecy was about, and if he was correct then the world as they knew it was in danger. Al rose a hand to silence Andrew from, no doubt, another string of reasons why he should agree with him.

"Okay, we'll keep this to ourselves for now. But," Al added quickly, "if either one of us feels we need to bring the matter to our supervisors in the future -"

"Then no hard feelings." Andrew supplied, finishing Al's comment before slapping him on the back. "You will not regret this Al," Andrew had remarked, smiling widely.

And, neither had felt the need to inform their supervisors, which in hindsight was a blessing, since the higher management of the Ministry had already begun to be compromised by the One-Who-Is-Upcoming at that time. Except for Shacklebolt. He had held out until the end.

Andrew and Al had continued searching for clues toward the record secretly, and after years of dead-ends and red herrings Al – with the aid of Rose – had finally pieced the majority of the puzzle together. Andrew had been thrilled at the almost-Muggle science fiction slash fantasy novel turn of the whole affair. After all, Andrew had been a Muggle-born Wizard from the States who never forgot his Muggle heritage or his inner-geek.

Al poured himself another drink and smirked as his mind provided a mental image of Andrew citing dozens of Muggle science fiction quotes followed by possible correlations between this event and an episode of Galaxy Quest.

Andrew had missed the majority of the clues since he died only two years after Spinner's End, but he had still been alive when Al had gotten that special Owl package from Professor Trelawney a month after they had paid the professor a visit.

"What is it?" Andrew had asked excitedly, holding his coffee mug in both hands and leaning forward. It had been a bright and happy morning.

"It appears to be a journal," Al had replied after he had read the note affixed to the package and fed the speckled brown owl that had carried the heavy load all the way from Hogwarts an owl treat. The owl accepted it gratefully before exiting Al, Rose, and Andrew's flat. The three friends had shared the Wizarding London flat ever since they had passed their Auror training together.

"Did someone say a journal?" Rose asked, walking into the small kitchenette in her Kim Possible themed jammies, which had been a gift from Andrew the Christmas before.

Al grinned as he observed Andrew wistfully watching Rose prepare her cereal and coffee. Al had always known that Andrew had a crush on his cousin, and if one could connect the dots from Rose's statement that Andrew was her Ron Stoppable then Rose had feelings for the blonde American as well. They just needed the right kick to their pants for them to recognize that both had feelings towards the other.

Sadly, neither received that chance.

"What misadventures are we about to embark on now?" Rose asked, finally joining her two roommates at the table.

"Not much of an adventure or misadventure, really," replied Andrew. Both had thought it best to keep Rose out of the loop dealing with the prophecy record. Not that her help in the matter wouldn't be great, it was simply that neither Al nor Andrew wanted her put in jeopardy.

"It's just some old journals that Professor Trelawney decided to give us for payment for helping her clean her private chambers last month." Andrew continued.

Al gave a thankful nod towards his partner. Andrew knew that Al hated lying to his best friend, and even though Al was a better liar than most, he couldn't lie to Rose.

Rose paused, the hand that was holding a spoonful of Golden Puffs halfway to her mouth hanging in midair as she slowly examined her two friends. She knew something was amiss with her roommates. She had not made the envied Hogwarts' positions of Perfect and Head Girl, or obtained ten Outstanding O.W.L.s, or made perfect marks on her Auror licensing exam for nothing.

She had inherited her mother's thirst for knowledge but she had also inherited her father's savvy for strategy. That and the added fact that she had known Al since toddler-hood and had grown up with him. Rose knew from experience that Al was a dreadful liar. Rose also knew that Andrew had a tell when he was lying. He would look at the nose of the person whom he was lying to instead of looking at their eyes. The young American wizard was doing that to her at that moment. They were up to something, and they weren't letting her in on it.

"Okay, what have you two been up to now?" She asked.

Andrew moved his attention from Rose's nose to her eyes, startled by her question. He quickly looked back down at his coffee, hating the tingling of heat lapping at his face.

Al had fought to suppress a sound of surprise and was inwardly thankful for it, although he too decided that his attention should be anywhere but the observant redhead to his right. So Al began untying the knots of twine that held the plain paper wrapping of the journals secure.

After it was made evident that neither of her roommates were going to answer her, Rose ate her cereal while quietly watching them.

"Whatever they have gotten into must be dangerous," Rose mentally decided, studying Al as he unwrapped the parcel. "Otherwise, they would have come to me for help, or gloated that they know something I don't. Well then, I will just have to dive in and save them both."

Rose grabbed the now unwrapped parcel – which was three leather bound journals – from Al's grasp in a rapid, fluid motion.

"Oi!" Al protested.

Rose ignored her cousin and read the covers of the journals. Her eyebrows shot upward when she saw the names of the individuals who had written the bound books before her. "The Legendary Cassandra Lee Trelawney and Professor Digory Kirke," Rose breathed, now holding the journals tenderly as though someone had bestowed her a great, priceless heirloom that was on the edge of disintegrating into dust.

"Do you know how valuable these are?" She asked, looking up at her roommates with wonderment written all over her face.

Al and Andrew shared a look and shrugged. Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes at their apparent laissez-faire attitude of indifference about the value of the priceless journals. "Honestly, men sometimes," Rose muttered.

"They are absolutely priceless! Why did Professor Trelawney send these to you? Tell me the truth now," Rose demanded, placing the journals gently on the table between the three of them.

Al sighed and mentally groaned. He had been fearing this moment for months. Al hated it when Rose was in any form of danger. In fact, he had tried to talk her out of becoming an Auror, but she had been steadfast in her resolve. They, Al and Andrew, were going to have to include Rose into the events of Spinner's End and the prophecy.

"It started when Andrew and I had an errand at Spinner's End..." Al began telling his cousin of the mysterious record and the connection to Professor Trelawney, making doubly sure to leave out the part where he lips read Cassandra Trelawney. He brought his ramblings of the events to a close with the arrival of the journals.

"I have no idea why Trelawney sent us two journals belonging to the famous missing – and long since presumed dead – Professor Kirke. He wasn't Cassandra's husband, and he lived way after her death."

"Maybe this Professor Kirke had found some old parchments concerning the prophecies of Cassandra Trelawney. Maybe he wrote them in these journals, and that's why Professor Trelawney sent them," Andrew ventured a guess finishing up his coffee.

Rose frowned, getting up from the table and collecting her empty bowl, mug, and Andrew's now empty coffee mug. She deposited them into the sink and cast a self-cleansing spell on them. She then turned to face her roommates and leaned against the kitchen sink, deep in thought.

Andrew and Al shared a glance. Rose now had a new puzzle to solve and three journals to read; Andrew and Al knew that both were Rose's loves: puzzle solving and reading.

Andrew excused himself to prepare for work, leaving Al and Rose alone in the kitchen. Al collected the wrapping paper and twine and placed them into the small recycling bin beside the back door before taking his dishes to the sink.

Rose had since moved from the sink and was casting a silencing charm on the small kitchenette. Their family had always pushed the need to be armed with one's wand at all times. Something about constant vigilance.

After Rose had turned back and lowered her wand, Al quirked an eyebrow in silent question and waited for her to start.

"Al, I know you. Heck, I grew up with you. I know for a fact that you can read lips – albeit not as well as me – but you never mentioned at least trying to read Cassandra's lips. What is it you or Andrew are not telling me?"

Al visibly grimaced. As he had feared, Rose had pieced it together. Al opened his coat and pulled out the small parchment fragment containing his transcription of the prophecy. "You know me too well Rosie," Al remarked, handing her the parchment. "This is what I believe she said. Some words I am not too sure about. Those are denoted with a slash followed by another word it could be."

Rose took the parchment and examined it carefully. Al studied her expressions as she read the prophecy. He saw the range of emotions play out and he silently guessed which parts of the prophecy went with each emotion.

"This is game – no – world changing," Rose breathed, switching her examining gaze onto Al. "Do you think this is real and not some sick, twisted joke someone decided to pull?"

"I don't know," Al commented, accepting the parchment. "There are three occurrences that have yet to happen. If they do then -"

"It follows that the rest will come to pass as well."

Al simply nodded.

"Are the Four Chosen Children who I think they are?" Rose asked moving to join Al at the sink.

"I believe so."

"Maybe we are reading too much into this. The descriptions and titles could just be a coincidence. I mean, how could this even be possible? Three out of the four are dead, and the fourth is differently not a child anymore."

"I would agree, except for these," Al retrieved the four figurines and the metal plaque before handing them over to Rose.

Rose gingerly took the five objects from Al and studied them. When she had reached the figurine of a small girl her mouth fell open in shock. It was a dead image of her mother – Hermione Jean Weasley née Granger – as a child. She quickly turned to her cousin.

"Yes," Al said, answering Rose's silent question, "That is your mother, and I believe the other three to be figurines in the likeness of the late Lupins and the former Headmaster Snape as children."

"You believe? You haven't checked photographs of them to verify?"

"No. I did try Rosie, it's not that I didn't. It would be a lot easier if the yearbooks from Hogwarts pre-dating 1997 hadn't been burned in the last battle."

"I'm sure Teddy has some pictures of his parents when they were younger. I can ask him about it today."

"If you can do it without raising his curiosity, then please do and let me and Andrew know if it's a match."

"Will do," she stopped her hand, the one that had been silently tracing a figurine of a tall, dark, long-haired, skinny boy. "Do you think your parents might have a couple of Snape's childhood pictures? Since he was friends with Lily and all?"

Al frowned as he mentally reviewed all the pictures of his parental grandmother, which sadly wasn't a lot. Al shook his head. "No. They only have a dozen or so photos of Grandma Lily, and none of them has Snape in them. I heard that he was camera shy, and probably only had a few taken in his whole lifetime."

"Well, you could pay a visit to Hogwarts and ask Snape's portrait if he knows of any childhood photos or portraits."

Al's eyes grew wide at his cousin's suggestion before frantically shaking his head no.

"You're not still afraid of Snape's portrait, are you?"

"Yes, I am. I still remember when dad brought me and James and introduced us to both Dumbledore's and Snape's portrait during the fifteenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts." Al paused as his whole body trembled at the memory of the event. "It was after that when James began to torment me about being sorted into Slytherin."

"So you are not going to ask him then?"

"I'd rather trek into the Forbidden Forrest and wrestle a centaur to the ground at night without a wand."

"Well, I guess I'll just do it then," Rose announced, removing the silence charms and leaving the kitchen to prepare for the day.

And that was exactly what she did. Rose paid a visit to Hogwarts – on the guise of checking campus security was where it should be – and talked to Snape's portrait. She had been victorious in her errand for she had returned with a small wizarding picture of Severus Snape when he was a first year walking beside his friend, Lily Evans. Even though Al hadn't wanted to be the one to ask, he would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during that conference. If only for the enjoyment of seeing Rose win in a battle of wits and willpower against the infamous bat of the dungeons.

Rose was also able to gather copies of childhood photos of Remus and Tonks from Teddy with only a few questions from the senior Auror agent.

"So let me get this straight," Andrew said, joining his roommates at the table with his tea in his hand. "The four figurines are replicas of children. Yet they aren't children anymore; three are dead, and one is Rose's mom?"

Rose and Al nodded their heads in consensus. It had been two weeks since Rose had been included into the secret of the prophecy of the Four Chosen Children, and one week after Rose has forced Al into telling Andrew about the transposed prophecy he had written. The three friends were discussing what Rosie had discovered since on a stormy Saturday during tea.

"And, the other three – the ones that have been dead for several years now – are none other than Remus and Tonks Lupin and Severus Snape?"

Again, the two cousins nodded yes.

"Okay, so how does this all fit into the titles that were on the plaque?"

"Good question," Rose replied pulling out her research notebook from her messenger bag.

Both Al and Andrew let out an audible moan, knowing all too well what came next.

Rose opened her notebook and flipped through several pages. "I have been doing some research on that, as well as some other things concerning this prophecy."

"Shocker," whispered Andrew, causing Al to snicker before both fell silent and listened to Rose.

"First off, the titles seem to be paired off girl-boy and boy-girl, like couples. The first couple is the Muggle-blood Lioness-Princess &amp; the Half-blood Serpent-Prince. I believe the titles for the first couple correspond to their blood status, Hogwarts house, and a title that was either given to them or that they penned themselves." Here Rose took a short breath before rushing forward.

"With that in mind and the uncanny resemblance of the figurines, I believe – with 98% certainty – that the first couple is my mom, Hermione Weasley née Granger, and former Headmaster Severus Snape since the qualifiers match perfectly for them." Here she paused and rearranged the figurines on the table, grouping them off in pairs.

"The second couple's title qualifiers differ from the first qualifiers. The second couple is the Swift Gentle Wayward-Wolf &amp; the Metamorphic Nymph Warrior-Maiden. This couple has two inverse aspects when compared to the first: the boy is first named then the girl, and the clue to their supernatural talent is a mirror image between them. The Swift Gentle Wayward-Wolf, I am certain, applies to Remus Lupin, since his legacy is that he was a gentle half-blood wizard fighting for the light and who was cursed to be a werewolf. His name means – according to some references – an oar that is swift to row. Thus the title fits. Well, mostly the wayward part I don't really follow.

"The Metamorphic Nymph Warrior-Maiden is Tonks, Remus' wife and mother to Teddy. It fits because she was a metamorphmagus witch who was an Auror agent and fought alongside her husband in the Battle of Hogwarts. That and her given name was Nymphadora which means gift of the nymphs."

"Okay, have you found out who G.T.L is?" asked Andrew. "Since we know that C.L.T is Cassandra Lee Trelawney, I'm just wondering who heard the prophecy when Cassandra uttered it all those years ago."

"No. I have tried. I cross-referenced the initials with other initials of persons who had heard a prophecy from Cassandra in the Hall of Prophecies, but no match."

"How about the journals? Any clues or discoveries worthwhile?" Al asked Rose.

"Yes," Rose grinned and took out the three bond journals, flipping through her research notebook. "Cassandra's journal is an interesting read. It contains the events of her falling for her future husband Jeremiah Trelawney. Apparently, he was head of Slytherin and a potions master, not just at Hogwarts but at large in Wizarding Britain. At first neither one could stand the other but with time the mutual dislike grew into a strong passion and eventually love. Cassandra did mention several prophecies but she didn't go into great detail. I have narrowed it down to three possible choices – that is, if she even recorded this prophecy – since this happened after she married Jeremiah."

"She only made three prophecies after marrying Jeremiah?" Andrew asked.

"Oh no, she made much more than that. Ones dealing with both Muggle and Wizarding worlds. It's just that with the age range that Al gave me when he saw the aspiration of Cassandra and the fact that she had to have been married to Trelawney when she declared the prophecy that I have narrowed down the possibilities to three. That and only those three somewhat match the transposed prophecy that Al recorded."

"Oh," Al and Andrew simultaneously replied.

"The other two journals are from Professor Kirke. One is his own personal journal since he started attending Hogwarts to the day before he vanished. The other is his memoirs of a place called Narnia and the collection of adventures from seven other children that traveled to Narnia at different times. How this is supposed to fit into Cassandra's journal or the prophecy, I have no idea," Rose declared taking a long sip of tea not noticing the stunned look on Andrew's face.

"Di-did you say Narnia?" Andrew asked, wondering if this could be real at all. He really hoped it was.

"Yes," Rose replied studying Andrew quizzically. Al was also looking at Andrew and wondering what Andrew was getting at.

"And it mentioned how Professor Digory Kirke, Polly Plummer, Peter, Susan, Edmond and Lucy Pevensie, Eustace Scrubb, and Jill Pole have adventures in a land called Narnia that was roared into life by a lion named Aslan?" Andrew asked placing his tea cup down onto the table.

"How did you know?" Rose asked clearly puzzled. "Did you read that journal?"

Andrew laughed and clapped his hands before giving a loud woo-hoo.

"You alright mate?" Al asked.

"Yes, I am fantastic. Narnia is real – or should I say was real." Andrew corrected himself. He forced himself to calm down since he would have to explain the revelation this provided. "If Narnia existed then the Wood between the Worlds exists," Andrew reasoned to himself gleefully.

"Sorry," Andrew began after a moment of silence to come down from his fanboy high. "No Rose I didn't read any of the journals but I did read the book series. Surely you have heard of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis?" Andrew asked looking between his two friends, who for their response simply shook their heads no. Andrew sighed.

"The Chronicles of Narnia is a series of seven Muggle fantasy novels that Muggle children read for enjoyment, and it is set in Britain – well, for the non-Narnia moments. I can't believe you haven't read it or heard about it."

"Wait a minute," Rose said turning back a few pages in her notebook, "Did you say that the Chronicles of Narnia was written by an author known as C.S. Lewis?"

Andrew nodded yes.

"Was his first name Clive?"

"Yes, it was. How did you – ah, you did hear about it then?"

"Yes and no. I haven't heard of the book series, but in Professor Kirke's last entry in his personal journal – the one that wasn't filled with his Narnian memoirs – he wrote about leaving instructions to have his collection of Narnia adventures to be sent to Clive if he did not return within the month." Rose paused and wrote in the margin of her book the possible connection of Clive to C.S. Lewis. "Of course, he never returned, and I guess his instructions were followed since there has been a book series published about it."

Silence enveloped the small trio as everyone pondered this weird set of clues and information.

"So, to recap:" Al began, breaking the silence, "we have four children mentioned in a prophecy and even have four miniature figurines fashioned in their likeness, who we believe to be the late Lupins, the late Headmaster Snape, and Aunt Hermione. Then we have a book of memoirs of a far away mystical land called Narnia. That was apparently published in a children's fantasy book series."

Al grabbed one of Rose's cranberry tea biscuits. "How does Narnia fit into the prophecy exactly?"

"Well, didn't the transcribed prophecy mention something about the Four Chosen Children traveling through five vast lands, each an image of one of the classic Grecian elements before returning to fight for the sixth one. . . or something like that?" Andrew asked.

"Yes," Rose answered. "Also, one of the prophecies that Cassandra mentions in her journal describes how four chosen persons will have to fight five celestial evils to defeat the sixth earthly evil and once all six are defeated the seventh will appear, but the fiery bird's nestlings shall overcome the seventh with aid of transcending generations and the heavens, while another mentions that four children will have to form a close bond of friendship to survive and discover their way back. The third only mentions how the four will lose everything from their time by choice to bring change and a chance of life over death."

Andrew let out a low whistle. "Those are the three prophecies you narrowed it down to?"

"Yes."

"Not a lot of help then," Andrew surmised.

"No, not really…" Rose said, picking up her tea.

"But the Wood between the Worlds could still be the point of connection, couldn't it?"

Rose nodded her head yes.

"The wood of what now?" Al asked, looking between Rosie and Andrew.

"The Wood between the Worlds is like an intergalactic hallway that is outside of time. One can transport there and then by just jumping into a small pool of water can travel to other worlds without aid of warp drives or little blue police call boxes or stargates or -"

"Okay Andrew, I get the picture," Al quickly said, hoping he had stopped his partner from more science fiction related musings. "How can you access this Wood between the Worlds?"

"Good question. Supposedly the ancients used a type of powder – much like Floo powder – to travel to the Wood and back, but Professor Kirke's Uncle fused some remaining powder into magical rings. Two types actually: one green and one yellow." Rose started flipping to a page in Professor Kirke's journal that had an illustration of a wooden box and small rings that had been colored thusly. "If the Wood does play a part then I would argue that we would have to find the childhood house of Polly Plummer and retrieve the buried chest that stores the magic rings and -"

"The rings won't be there. They were already removed from there by Peter and Edmund in 1949. In fact, they were going to use them to try and save Narnia, but the rings were lost during the infamous train wreck that sent the Seven Friends of Narnia to Aslan's Country…" Andrew trailed off, helping himself to another one of the biscuits before him.

The Auror trio, once more, sat quietly for several minutes, all three lost in their own thoughts.

Rose sighed and took a sip of her tea. She silently thanked the stars that she had enchanted the tea service with a self-warming charm when she first acquired it. Otherwise, the tea would have been cold, and Rose detested cold tea.

"Since the main participants are either dead or beyond the age of childhood, how can this come to be?" Al asked, looking at both Andrew and Rose.

"Ah, that's simple," Andrew replied taking a sip of his tea. "Time travel."

"Time travel?" Al and Rose simultaneously replied, shock evident on their faces.

"Yep," Andrew acknowledged, a huge grin plastered on his face. "You know, the ability to travel backward – or forwards – through the space–time continuum to exact periods of time."

"Time travel isn't possible," Al replied shaking his head.

"Oh come on. I have read of Time-Turners. Although, it is rumored that they are now stuck in an endless time loop, but who knows if there is an unknown box of Time-Turners around; or better yet, the Unspeakables. If there was ever a secret time-travel agency, the Department of Mysteries: Time Division would be it," Andrew commented before finishing his tea and refilling his cup with a nonverbal spell.

"That is only a rumor," Rose said, a deep frown on her face as she pondered what Andrew had said. "But," she paused, surprised at herself for even considering this crazy line of thought, "if time-travel were possible, the dangers of traveling over decades would be grave, not just for the traveler but for the world at large."

"Even if we had a Time-Turner, isn't its longest reach back in time not even a day? Then it wouldn't help one bit," Al pointed out, sipping his tea.

"Well, that's not entirely true."

Al and Andrew stared at Rose, waiting for her to continue, their teas momentarily forgotten.

"The 5-hour limitation was a Ministry mandated governor on the device to ensure that time would not be too meddled with. They had other governors as well. One couldn't use a Time-Turner if they had ever been in Azkaban or bore the Dark Mark. You know, to make sure that a dark wizard didn't go back several years and kill the Auror agent before the agent could capture him the first time."

"So each device had those governors assigned to them when they were made?" Andrew asked, his curiosity clearly piqued, which it always was when it came to anything dealing with time travel.

"No. The Ministry decided that it would be more efficient if they placed and maintained an overall governor from the safety of the Ministry. Sort of like a security blanket. That way they can add or reduce ordinances for governing time-travel for all Time-Turners by a simple wave of a wand."

"So, are the governors still in place then?" Andrew asked Rose. "You know, since all of the known Time-Turners are stuck in their own version of Groundhog Day and are unstable thus useless."

Rose frowned. "I don't know for sure, but I remember reading an inner-office memo about the decision of eliminating or reducing governors that are redundant or no longer necessary."

"Like the ones for the Time-Turners," Al supplied, catching on.

"Yes, I think so."

In the following weeks, the trio did discover that the governors had been disabled for the Time-Turners to conserve magical resources. Thus if one had a Time-Turner – which was supposedly impossible in itself – one could go back any amount of time. The only problem was that Time-Turners only went backward in time, never forward. So one could go back to the dawn of time but then would have to live out his or her life with no chance of returning to the present.

The Auror trio had hit a dead-end until Rose had stormed into the kitchenette that Sunday morning before Andrew's death. She usually organized and collected appearance was in disarray. Her hair was disheveled and she was frowning as she slammed a stack of dusty tomes onto the table before falling into her chair.

"Oi!" Andrew and Al coughed, waving their hands and trying to dissipate the dust cloud that had enveloped them and their meals.

Rose ignored them as she angrily huffed a wayward lock of hair away from her eyes. She had been burning the midnight oil every weekend for the past year researching Time-Turners, time centered potions, and even enchanted magical artifacts with implications to time, but it had been to no avail. That was until she had gone to the Malfoy Manor and had asked Scorpius for permission to use the Malfoy family's personal library for research purposes the day before.

She had expected he would say no. She would have preferred it if he had, but no he had granted her access. And to top it all off he had been the perfect gentleman and host while she was there. She had spent all Saturday searching through the Malfoy library for any books that might have had any connections or mentions to time travel. She had found five books that had fit that criteria, but before she could quietly exit the Malfoy estate with them Scorpius had surprised her and had inquired after her choice in books. She had done her best in avoiding his questions and answered some with half truths, but he hadn't believed her. It wasn't that he had gone straight out and accused her of lying. Oh no, he never challenged her reasons or story verbally, but his body language spoke volumes. He had crossed his arms, propped himself against the library's door, and had quirked his right eyebrow.

It had shocked Rose to discover that she had felt truly sad that Scorpius didn't believe her. A feeling she had not been expecting. Rose had quickly excused herself, thanking Scorpius for allowing her use of his family's library and had practically bolted from the manor in a dead run.

"Hey, Earth to Rose. You okay?" Andrew asked, waving his hand in front of Rose's face. He had been worried that she hadn't answered his or Al's questions about the books.

Rose blinked before batting Andrew's hand away. "I'm fine. I just didn't get a wink of sleep last night. . ." she yawned. "I read all five books. . . I may have found a way to construct our own Time-Turner and maybe, just maybe, have found out how the Unspeakables retrieved travelers from the past."

Al and Andrew stared at the old tomes before them in awe. "Really?" They both asked.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, and I have been also looking into where the rings could be. . ."

Al and Andrew quickly learned that Rose had narrowed down the possible sites where the magic rings could be to two places. Each of the two sites had met the criteria: they had both suffered a massive train derailment near a station, and the accident had occurred within a week of Professor Kirke's disappearance.

As all things in life, it wasn't the first site that had the rings. No, it had been the second one. Al and Andrew had unearthed the rings with the aid of a Muggle inspired magical metal detector designed by Hugo Weasley to detect all kinds of enchanted metal.

Some of the rings had been broken into semi-circular pieces, but there were several rings still intact. Andrew had the honor of being the first one to use the rings since Polly and Professor Kirke. He quickly returned with a pudgy guinea pig that had a yellow ring tied around it and a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.

"Meet the oldest guinea pig in the world. I think I'm going to call him Piglet. You know, he is over a hundred years old." Andrew showed off his new pet and petted him gently. His eyes were wide and dancing merrily. "The Wood is almost exactly like it was described in the Magician's Nephew! It's awesome!"

Rose and Al had also visited the Wood between the Worlds, and although they had both been excited about the discovery of the magical Wood they had not shared the same child-like joy and cheer that Andrew had. Neither Rose nor Al had danced around singing the theme to the New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh like Andrew had.

After the discovery of the Wood, the next biggest obstacle had been the matter of time. Thanks to Rosie's long hours of thankless research that obstacle was easily passed in theory. Bringing it into reality had been a different thing, however.

Scorpius and Teddy had maneuvered their way into the secret of the Spinner End's prophecy in the months following Andrew's death. Al had told Teddy of the events of the prophecy while Rose explained them to Scorpius. Teddy and Scorpius proved their worthiness in their own talents and insight. Teddy had helped by suggesting that they should add a communication charm to the tethering devices. It allowed a means to communicate with your party regardless of where your traveling companion was. Scorpius had helped Rose with researching, verifying and building the devices overall.

Even with the aid of Scorpius, it took time to build each Time-Turner, tether token and cast the required enchantments on each. Thus, it had taken Rose and Scorpius years to construct the four Time-Turners and the tethering tokens.

In fact, if it hadn't been for Scorpius' input, Rose and Al would have missed the most important element of the tethering devices: the anchoring diagram. The anchoring diagram was how the time-traveler could travel back to the future; back to the traveler's own time. Without it, the tethering tokens would be utterly useless. The complex and ancient diagram that would serve as the anchor for the tethering tokens would have to be drawn within the hour of departure to function properly.

The enchanted rings also had to be modified into something that four young Hogwarts' students would want to examine. There had been quite a debate between Scorpius and Rose over what artifact or magical device would be the best. In the end, Rose's idea had won. They would create magical books infused with the dust of the rings, with a few extra features added in for good measure.

Al was started out of his reverie as the antique Muggle clock on his mantel chimed midnight, issuing in the new day. Al refilled his glass and contemplated the fiery amber liquid, swirling the glass between his fingers.

The three occurrences foretold in the Spinner End's prophecy had all occurred in the three years following Andrew's death. The Order of the Phoenix had indeed been reborn under the leadership of Al's father and had led the fight against the One-Who-Is-Upcoming during the last three years, but just like the prophecy had predicted, the Order had fallen. They had lost. Albus, Rose, Teddy, and Scorpius had been the only Order members that had survived.

"Well cheers," Albus muttered and downed his drink before throwing the empty glass into the fire.

"Al?" Rose said, joining her cousin. "It's late. We have to be ready for tomorrow. . . Please, you need to get some sleep."

Al was motionless as he sat and watched the flames for several minutes. "Do you think this will work, Rosie?"

"Yes, I do."

"What will happen if . . . if you become. . . unborn because of us changing the past?" Al asked, not turning his attention from the fire in front of him.

Rose sighed. "I don't know Al. . . but if my parents were meant to be together then they will be. . . and if they are not meant to be then hopefully my sacrifice will not have been in vain. . . Heck, there is a chance I won't be born even if my parents do get together since timing is essential to conceiving a child as well as other factors."

"So there is a chance that we all might become unborn?"

She smiled weakly. "Yes, but I am hopeful that we won't, that the side of light and all that is right will prevail this time."

Both sat silently, lost in their own thoughts.

Al resisted the temptation of grabbing another drink. Rose was right. He needed to have his wits about him for tomorrow. Correction for today. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes. The books, the enchanted coins, and the Time-Turners are ready. . . Teddy is spending tonight with his family and Scorpius is spending the night in Andrew's old room." She smiled and laughed. "Al, you should have seen him lose his cool when he discovered Piglet. Piglet had somehow escaped his cage and climbed his way up the inside of Scorpius' robes. . . He freaked out – waving his hands and legs about screaming and demanding that I remove the dangerous animal from his person at once. Oh, it was priceless! He screamed like a little girl."

Al joined in the laughter. "I would have paid money to see that."

"Could you please control yourselves," drawled Scorpius from the doorway of Andrew's bedroom. He was visibly tired and clearly annoyed. "Someone is trying to get some sleep before embarking on a serious and rather dangerous time travel mission in the morning."

However, instead of quieting the two Aurors, it had the opposite effect, causing them to fall onto the floor roaring with laughter. Al and Rose were so caught up in their hysterical release that they didn't notice the irate blond glaring at his former schoolmates before slamming the door behind him with a bang.

_**End of Part One**_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. The world of Narnia does not belong to The Author. Neither the characters nor the locations that belong therein according to Narnian cannon belong to The Author, as these are the property of the Lewis Estate. However, any original Narnian characters within this Story are of the the Author's own creation and are not to be used by anyone without the express permission of the Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of the two franchises mentioned above, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** This two-shot was originally planned to be a short prologue for an upcoming multiple-chapter story that is a fulfillment for a request/challenge from a dear and good friend, Tammy. However, Al and the Next Gen gang would not be satisfied with only a few pages attached to another story. Oh no, they wanted their own little story. So, this is a prequel of sorts.


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